The heat met Carter the second he stepped out of the car, but it wasn’t the suffocating, unmoving kind he was used to back home. This was different,lighter somehow, threaded with salt and something faintly citrus, carried on a breeze that never seemed to settle. It moved around him, through him, as if the island itself was breathing.

He paused without meaning to, one hand still on the car door, eyes adjusting to the brightness. Everything looked sun-washed, white walls dulled by time, pale stone paths worn smooth, greenery spilling lazily over the edges of buildings like it had nowhere better to be. Somewhere just beyond the stretch of land in front of him, the sea rolled in slow, steady rhythms, the sound low and constant, like a heartbeat beneath everything else.

Behind him, one of the guys let out a disappointed laugh. “This is it?”

Carter didn’t turn around. He barely registered the question Asher asked. His attention was caught on the building in front of him, a small hotel, if you could even call it that. It didn’t have the polished look of a place meant for tourists. There was no grand entrance, no bright signs promising cocktails or late nights. Just a simple structure softened by sun and time, with shuttered windows and climbing plants curling around the walls as though they’d claimed it years ago and never left.

It wasn’t what they’d pictured when they booked it. Not even close.

He adjusted the strap of his bag over his shoulder, still taking it in, unsure why something about it made him hesitate. This was supposed to be easy, ten days of drinking, beaches, noise. Something temporary. Something forgettable.

“Bro, if there’s no bar here, I’m actually gonna lose it,” Hayden muttered, slamming a car door.

Carter exhaled a quiet laugh, more out of habit than anything else, but it didn’t quite land. There was a stillness to the place that made everything else feel too loud, like they’d brought the wrong kind of energy with them.

The front door opened with a soft creak.